


It's three in the fucking morning.

by beebro_fuckboyd



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Abuse, Patrick tries to be a sassy little shit even when he's at breaking point, Protective Pete Wentz, Violence, pete protects patrick, pete's insomnia kicks his ass, vaguely happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-05-05 06:59:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 5,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5365712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beebro_fuckboyd/pseuds/beebro_fuckboyd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three in the morning isn't a strange time for Pete to be awake. He doesn't expect Patrick to be awake at the same time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Why the fuck are you here?

Three in the morning isn't a strange time for Pete to be awake. Most nights he will sit up until sunrise, staring blankly at the static covered television screen in his bedroom until his mom comes in to turn it off whilst Pete just pretends to have fallen asleep watching a show. Insomnia kicks his ass. Since his parents are out of state, he has no reason to even pretend to be asleep. Not until three AM at least when rapid knocking on his parent's front door snaps him out of his staring, forcing him back to reality and to tare his gaze away from the screen. It's raining. No-one sane going to be knocking on the door at 3AM, he's pretty certain of that, even in his sleep deprived state. So, he reasons, it's probably a murderer come to rip out his organs.

Pete's fine with that.

Either stay hidden in his room, or go down and face the killer. Facing the killer seems the preferable and more exciting option and, well, it would serve Dale and Peter right for leaving him.

Slowly, he slips out of bed and pads downstairs, the knocking at the door starting to grow quieter but faster, more urgent.

_Calm down, will you? You can kill me in a minute. I have to actually get the door first!_

When he finally makes it to the door to open it, he's not expecting this badly timed murderer to be so short. Or blond. Or to be going by the name of Patrick.

Pete just stares in disbelief for a moment, not quite sure he got the time correct.

"Patrick?" He tries his best to break the silence, Patrick seemingly refusing to talk, let alone explain himself. Patrick just nods slightly, glancing past Pete into the house until Pete takes the hint and moves aside, pointing Patrick through into the living room. The weak, clearly forced smile that Patrick gives before ducking his head and heading through to the living room worries Pete even more than the timing. It's not a genuine smile. It's more of a 'thank you for helping me' and Pete has no idea how he's helping, nor what he's helping his best friend with at ass o'clock in the morning.

Judging by the way Patrick's covering the majority of his face with his hoodie and avoiding Pete's stare, he assumes he's not here to tell him he just won the lottery. Or got a new puppy.

Pete wanders in and joins his friend on the couch, still staring at him before he asks the all important question. "Patrick, why the fuck are you here?" Eloquent.

Patrick just waves a hand nonchalantly, trying his best to seem composed and normal, even if Pete can see right through the facade. Cue awkward silence for ten minutes as Patrick finds himself at a loss for an excuse for his timing. The ten minutes quickly turn into an hour and Patrick's still not talking. That may be due to the way his head has lolled to the side and he's slumped down over the arm of the couch. Oh. He's asleep and Pete's still staring. Well, staring blankly until Patrick shifts and his shirt rides up slightly, exposing his hips and what looks like finger prints. Well, bruises in the shape of finger prints littered amongst a couple of other bruises and old scars in the very small area that Pete can see.

_Oh_.


	2. Look at me? Please?

When Patrick starts to stir, Pete's still staring, lost in his thought and hoping he's seeing things, hoping he isn't actually seeing the scars on Patrick's hip. Patrick's half awake, vaguely aware of Pete's eyes on him as he pulls his shirt down to cover his side, turning over slightly and pretending Pete's not looking at him, not staring.

A couple of seconds pass before Pete's mumbling under his breath, as if not saying it outloud will make it go away. "Patrick..." He cuts himself off, clearing his throat and starting again a little louder. "P-Patrick, why are you here? It's three in the morning. Well, gone three now, tell me. Tell me why you're here?"

Patrick shakes his head and takes a shaky breath, still refusing to talk. He just glances across at Pete, scanning his eyes for a moment as if trying to read him to see if it's safe. _Of course you're safe. This is Pete. You're safe here. No-one can get to you if Pete's here._

Pete's not going to give up easily. His name might as well be Peter Stubborn Wentz, he could rival Patrick himself. "Patrick, did something happen? Are you okay?"

"Fell down the stairs." There's hesitation in his voice and Pete knows immediately that it's a lie. The few scars he saw look months old and the bruises, well, the bruises look more like finger prints than anything. It's as if someone has grabbed his hip to stop him moving. Stop him running.

"Who did that to you?"

"I fell, Pete. Tripped."

"Patrick, who did that to you?"

"No-one did anything. I just fell down the stairs!" Patrick starts raising his voice defensively, Pete only takes that to mean that he can do the same.

It's not like he's not known for talking with his hands, the amount of times Pete's managed to hit things with his over-excited gestures became uncountable. He raises his voice, his hands refusing to keeps still as he raises them as if it's going to help in any way. "Patrick! Something's happened, don't lie to me! I can read you like a fuckin' book. I'm not seeing shit, those scars on your hip are old. You don't get bruises like that from falling down the stairs!"

He immediately reels his hands back in when Patrick flinches and turns his head away as if he's bracing himself.

"'Trick, l-look at me. Please?"

The smaller boy turns his head back ever so slightly to look at Pete, knowing full well that Pete won't let it slide.

"D-Did someone in your family give you that bruise?"

"No."

Pete knows he's telling the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry I'm not updating regularly. I'll try and get better, I promise.


	3. Pete's safe. Pete can help.

"Then- Then what did, 'Trick? Tell me?" There's a sincere look in Pete's eyes as he shifts closer to Patrick and places a comforting hand on his arm. He knows full well that he doesn't really want an answer. He doesn't want to hear whatever Patrick chooses to tell him. But, it looks as if there's a shield around his best friend that' not going to lower any time soon as Patrick wraps his arms around himself in a hug.

"Nothin'. Can- Can I go back to sleep?" He glances across at Pete as if he's actually asking for his permission.

Pete just nods, muttering "You can have my bed if you want, y'know? The couch isn't exactly comfy."

The smaller man just nods and drags himself off the couch without another word as he staggers away to Pete's room.  By the time Pete follows after him, he's already curled up tight under the blankets like he's shutting out the room, shutting Pete out. His eyes are shut tight and Pete can tell immediately that his friend's in pain. "Patrick, I'm gonna keep asking, y'know? Why are you here? I thought you were supposed to be staying with your girlfriend?"

 His brain starts whirring when Patrick seems to curl up tighter under the duvet, clutching it like a lifeline. He thinks back to a rehearsal the band had had a few weeks prior. Pete had said that Dale and Peter were going to be out of town for a while on business. Patrick had interjected with a quick 'Same. Jade's staying over so- yeah' and been mercilessly teased by his band mates wolf whistling and cooing as Patrick had started to blush, looking more uncomfortable than anything. It was adorable in Pete's books.

In fact, now he thinks about it, it was a surprisingly good rehearsal. Patrick had actually bothered to turn up since he tended not to so much anymore. There'd always be an excuse. 'Sorry, gotta see Jade today.' 'Sorry, I don't feel so good. Not coming.' 'Sorry, I'm too tired.' Now as he's staring at the curled up form of his best friend, he's starting to think the worst.

"'Tricky, why are you here? Don't act like you can't hear me." _It was her, wasn't it? Oh god, oh god, Patrick. Has she hurt you? She's hurt you. I'm gonna fucking kill her. I swear to god, no-one gets to touch you. No-one, I'll-_

"Please stop asking me."

"What? Patrick, I need to know what-"

"I can't tell you."

"Why can't you tell me?"

Patrick doesn't reply to that. He cocoons himself in the duvet even more as he tries to block Pete's questions out. He wants to tell him. He desperately wants to tell him, to let Pete hold him and tell him it's all going to be okay, but he can't. He knows he can't. It's not like Pete has to know, he can carry on hiding it like he has been for months. He'll find an excuse for the bruises, he always does. One that Pete will believe.

"Was is her? Was this Jade?"

The split second decision is made. _Pete's safe. Pete can help. He won't let her near you._ Months of being careful goes straight out of the window as Patrick finds his voice cracking when he whispers "Y-Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am the worst at writing and I am sorry. I have read the lovely comments and decided I should probably stop letting people down so, yeah, here is a shitty update.


	4. How could she?

Pete feels sick. He stares down at Patrick, wishing he hadn't heard him. He can't pretend Patrick's not curled up in his bed, shaking slightly and facing away from Pete's concerned face. "'Trick, I didn't- Why didn't you- oh god, Jesus christ, how could she- Fucking hell," he mumbles more to himself than Patrick.

Patrick just stays silent, his head screaming at him to take it back, tell Pete he's lying. Before he can even say anything, Pete's besides him, pulling Patrick into his chest and rocking him slightly.

"Stay here. Don't go back to her. Patrick, you don't deserve that. She- fucking hell, Patrick."

_Lie. Tell him you lied. Tell him it was just a stranger. Lie to him. You have to lie to him. No-one can know, not even Pete. Lie. She loves you, no-one else will. Just lie already like you always do, you worthless s-_

Patrick's brought back to reality by Pete rubbing his shoulder gently, murmuring words of encouragement under his breath. He looks back at Pete again, his eyes giving nothing away, only his shaking shoulders betraying him.

He swallows hard, struggling to form the words. "I- It's fine, Pete. You don't need to worry. I j-just needed to get away for the night." He forces a small smile, his eyes still showing no emotion.

"Those scars are old, 'Trick. This isn't new."

"Deserve it."

Pete can't breathe. He stares at Patrick, shaking his head desperately, unable to speak. _He-He thinks he deserved this? Thinks he deserved to be hurt? Patrick, no. No, you could never deserve this. Nothing would excuse this. No matter what you think you did wrong, nothing excuses this, ever. Especially not you, this shouldn't happen to you! You're eighteen! You're so young and- oh god._

"'T-'Trick? How- How long has this been happening? She's done it before, hasn't she?"

Patrick chews on his bottom lip, unable to make eye contact with Pete as he murmurs "Yeah,  um- about a half a year?"

So since he was seventeen. Before the band started. Before Pete met and fell for this dorky little kid with his argyle sweater and shorts, trying to impress. Someone dared to lay a finger on Patrick, on his Patrick. He can't think straight. He pulls Patrick into his chest as he lays down, cradling him as if he'll shatter at any moment. He won't.  He knows Patrick's strong, angry side, he's not in any way fragile, so it hurts to see him like this, scared.

The pair are asleep within minutes of each-other, Patrick still exhausted and Pete's brain trying to block out the world to make sense of what Patrick just managed to confide in him.

By the time the sun starts to stream through the window, illuminating the room, Patrick's gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't updated in ages because I am a piece of shit. Also, hi Immi.


	5. You can't just hide this.

He's not sure if it was a dream. Patrick's not in the bed next to him anymore and he thinks it must have been a dream.

_Fucked up dream._

Whenever he dreams about Patrick, it's not like this. 'Trick is always happy in his dreams, in front of the audience of thousands that he deserves to have hear his voice, or laying in Pete's arms, but happy either way. There's no way he'd have dreamt him getting abused. No way. Not in a million years would Pete ever want to think about his best friend scared and hurt.

_There is no way that that was a dream._

He's even more surprised when he finds Patrick in Joe's garage later on ready for practice. He wants to ask Patrick what's going on, if he really was on his doorstep at three in the morning or if he's really just going insane. He can't. Patrick looks so happy as he plays that Pete can't bring himself to ruin it all. He wants to pretend it really was a dream, but the niggling doubt at the back of his mind won't shut up.

_If it was just a dream, then it's all okay. If not, then you can't ignore it. Patrick needs you. Man the fuck up, don't be so fucking useless. You wanna let him get hurt, huh? What if he cries for you, and you don't wanna bother helping him because you're so self absorbed that you-_

"Pete?" He's brought out of his internalised monologue when Joe claps him on the shoulder, raising his eyebrow. "Dude? Ground control to Major Wentz? You in there?"

"Fight with Patrick," Pete mumbles before he can stop himself, quiet enough so the vocalist can't hear.

"What? Are you insane?"

"Probably. I need you to- to raise your hand to him. Don't actually hit him. Joe, it's important, please? Will you do it for twenty dollars?"

Joe just sighs and nods, still looking confused but never one to turn down money. He shuffles over to Patrick and coughs. "Patrick, honestly, can you even tune that fuckin' guitar? It sounds shit still."

"Hey! Fuck you too, Trohman. It sounds fine!"

"Oh, shut up, Stump. I've heard enough of your voice to last a lifetime."

"Fucking make me shut up!"

Joe takes that as his cue and he raises his hand as if he's about to slap Patrick. 'Trick recoils and flinches back, ducking his head down and holding his hands up in front of his face to protect himself. "Sorry! I shouldn't have said that! Please don't- I'm sorry, Joe!" He keeps stumbling back with his head down, falling over an amp and tumbling backwards to the floor with a tiny whimper.

Andy looks up from his kit and raises an eyebrow at Patrick's reaction as Joe lowers his hand quickly, looking to Pete with the same expression. Pete just points them out of the room quickly with the promise of explaining at some point in the future before he sits down next to Patrick and wraps an arm around his shoulder. "I didn't dream last night, did I?"

Patrick shakes his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any comments would make me so happy so uh, please make a small emo boy happy? Even if it's just to tell me it's shit.


	6. Don't pretend this is okay.

 

"You're trying to pretend it's not happening"

"No, it's not like that, it's-"

"Patrick, you can't pretend that it's okay." _This would never be okay._

"Pete, I'm not doing that, but I wanna focus on the music, right? It's not important, I'm fine." Patrick pulls away from Pete as he speaks, leaving him on the floor and practically running out of the house past a bewildered Joe and Andy. As the pair come back into the practice space and take note of Pete sitting on the floor with his head in his hands, they exchange glances, both raising their eyebrows at one another quizzically.

"Um- Pete, buddy, are you okay? Is 'Trick okay?" Andy's concerned voice breaks through the silence, causing Pete's head to snap up and nod quickly. He's pushing past Joe and Andy seconds later and stalking home, knowing it won't do any good to go after Patrick and risk him getting hurt because of it.

Patrick doesn't turn up to practice the rest of the week. He doesn't reply to Joe's texts asking him if it was his fault for shouting. He doesn't reply to Andy's voicemails telling him he's there if he need to speak to someone. Not that Pete really responds to much either. He turns up to practice to wait with the guys to see if Patrick will show, but he doesn't do anything. The week long cycle of _drag yourself out of bed, get dressed in whatever is laying on the floor, maybe brush your teeth. Food? Maybe. Go to practice, stare silently at a wall with two other men, go home, stare silently at a wall alone, pass out from exhausion._

He doesn't expect Patrick to be at his door again at midnight a week after he did it the first time.

When the knocking at his door finally wakes him up from his exhaustion induced sleep, he expects Joe, or Andy, or just anyone other than Patrick. So when he opens the door, he's already prepared what he'll say. "Look, dude, it's way too late at night for you to be here so-" He stops and stares down at Patrick, his eyes immediately focusing on his black eye and the deep cut across his cheek. 

Patrick obviously follows his eyes and sighs, pointing at the gash. "Ring."

"She slapped you."

"That's a nice version of events."

Pete's about to pull Patrick into his arms for a hug before he looks down and notices the blood on Patrick's shirt and the bruises covering his arms. "Oh, 'Tricky..."

Patrick just shakes his head and stares hopefully into the house. "Can I...?" Before Pete even has time to react, Patrick falls forward into his arms with a quiet groan through gritted teeth, passing out against Pete's chest a second later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically I just write a page worth of writing on a word document each time so each chapter is about the same length or i'll never get anywhere. Just incase you were wondering, which you weren't  
> Again, comments make a tiny emo boy happy.  
> Literally tiny, I'm 5ft 2".


	7. You're brave

When he wakes up, he's in Pete's bed. Not that it registers. He keeps his eyes shut, assuming he must had been hit hard enough to knock him out and Jade has let him crawl wounded into bed in a half awake state before he's passed out fully. So soon, he'll be fully awake, trying to defend himself against the constant 'You passed out! Pansy.' and 'Can't take any punishment, can you? You deserved that.' so he keeps his eyes closed, postponing it. A moment later, he feels the bed sink next to him and someone sit down. Shit. Shit, he must've stirred slightly and given himself away.

He slowly opens his eyes, only to be met by Pete's own concerned expression. His eyes look red, bloodshot and full of unreadable emotion. Patrick can't understand why.

"'Trick? 'Tricky, what- why did she-?"

"I fucked up."

"That's not a reason. I'm sure you didn't do anything wrong, but what did she think deserved this?"

Patrick bites down on his bottom lip as he looks away from Pete. He looks nervous, almost embarrassed. 

"Patrick, you can tell me. I'm not gonna do anything."

_Pete's gonna laugh at you. He'll say you deserved it, even though you did actually deserve it. He'll kick you out, you'll have to go back. He'll be disgusted by you. He might hate you. Do you want that? Do you want Pete to leave you?_

"'Trickster?"

He sighs and turns his head back to Pete for a moment as he sits up, wincing slightly at the pain in his ribs. "I um- I talked back but- but it was stupid and-" He sighs again and takes a breath. "I don't know why. She- I uh- I said something like 'Pete wouldn't treat me like this' so uh- yeah."

"Oh my god."

"I know, it was a fucking stupid thing to say."

Pete shakes his head desperately. "No, Patrick. No, it wasn't dumb. You're right, I would never lay a finger on you. You were brave enough to talk back and-"

"I only mumbled it."

"But you did say it."

Patrick shrugs, a tiny smile playing at the corners of his lips. He's about to say something else before a loud knocking at the door breaks the train of thought. Pete gives Patrick a sad smile before he stands up and heads for the door, not even registering the time.

He feels nothing but anger when he opens it and is faced with Jade herself, glaring daggers at him even though she smiles brightly, a light lilt in her voice. "Is my Patrick here?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments make the emo happy.


	8. Pete, help.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I only broke his fingers because my friend told me to. -This will stand in a court of law

Pete hasn't got time to react before Jade's already pushing past him into the house. Pete also doesn't have time to react when he can hear Patrick's voice calling out from the bedroom. "Pete? Who was it?"

He wishes Patrick had stayed silent, wishes he hadn't drawn attention and alerted Jade to the fact he's very much there and in Pete's bed. He wishes he doesn't see Jade storm into his room before he can reach it and slam the door shut. He wishes he didn't have a lock on his bedroom door.

"You've only been gone a few hours! You're already in bed with another man!" Jade's voice sounds too sweet to be shouting and Pete can almost feel Patrick flinching and shying away on the other side of the door.

"N-No, it's not like that. He- I needed to- You-," Patrick's brain's not catching up as Jade stalks closer to the bed. He has no excuse, no way of getting her to calm down. He wants to shout for Pete, but he knows Pete can't get to him. He's trapped.

Jade almost laughs when she hears Pete slamming his fists into the door, his yelling for her to unlock it and leave nothing but amusing in her mind. "You wanna be with him instead, huh? 'S that what you want? He won't love you. He only uses you for your music-" She pauses and grabs a hold of one of Patrick's hands, her fingers pressing his back slightly.

Patrick's brain still lags behind until he realises what she's doing. Jade smiles innocently at him, bending  the index and forefinger of his left hand back, just far enough for it to start becoming uncomfortable. "No. No, please don't- I'll come back with you, I'll- I will. Please, you can't- I won't be able to play!"

Jade just stares at him like he's said the stupidest thing in the world. The second Patrick tries to shift out of her grip, she bends the fingers she's pressing back as far and hard as she can, rewarded with a sickening crack and Patrick's near scream of pain.

Pete thinks he's going to be sick there and then. He's taken to throwing his weight against the door, desperate to break it down and get Jade away from his best friend. The scream he hears only causes him to try harder. _Come on! Come on, break you fucking piece of shit door. Come on! Please, please, 'Trick, just hold on. Hang in there. I'll fuckin' kill her._

On the other side of the door, Patrick's off the bed and on the floor, sitting up on his knees, begging. "Not here. Please just- I'll go back with you. Pete doesn't have to- to hear."

Jade almost laughs, kicking Patrick in the abdomen so he loses his balance and falls to the floor, scrambling to protect his head with his hands when she doesn't stop kicking him after he falls.

"I put up with so much shit from you, what makes you think I want you back after this? And Pete won't want you. The rest of you band won't want you. You don't deserve how good I've been to you."

The pain in his ribs is causing his head to spin, he's got no chance of getting up again until Jade lets him. He manages a quiet whimper and a "P-Pete, help-" before he passes out.


	9. You're both worthless. Perfect match.

Pete of course doesn't hear the tiny, feeble whimper, but he still keeps throwing his weight at the door, desperate to break it down. It starts to splinter but it doesn't make a difference when Jade unlocks the door and opens it suddenly, allowing Pete to fall straight through with his weight behind him. He crashes to the floor with a thud when his nose hits the carpet. He knows it's bleeding. He doesn't care.

He looks up and props his body up on his forearms, coming face to face with Patrick's unconscious form on the floor. Jade steps over the both of them, grumbling under her breath something about 'Gone for minutes and already in bed with another guy' and 'Fucking pansy can't even take a couple of hits'.

Pete desperately wants to stand up and knock her out, see how she likes being hurt, but he doesn't. He won't rise to it right now, Patrick's his priority.

Patrick stirs slightly when he feels Pete scramble to his side and run his fingers along his cheek bone to try and wake him up. His ribs feel like they're on fire and he really doesn't want to move. A few seconds later, he manages to open his eyes, confused and bleary. Pete's hovering over his face, his features looking sullen but relieved.

He tries to reach out and take Pete's hand to let him know it's okay, but the pain in his broken fingers stops him, and he gives a choked out down sob, his voice hoarse and broken. His whole body seems to jolt as the pain shoots through his arm and he grits his teeth as hard as he can.

Clearly, he doesn't want to cry. He doesn't want to seem weak.

_You are weak, though. You didn't hide it, and now she's gonna leave you. Pete's gonna see you as a charity case. Anything nice he says isn't genuine, he pities you. You're a mess. Get up. Get up, say it's not so bad. You just need ice and sleep. You're fine. Stop being a baby._

Finally, he manages to choke out "I can't play, don't kick me out..." For some reason, he seems to think that's the most important thing right now. Not the fact of what Jade just did, but the fear that she's right, that Pete won't want him around anymore.

Pete stares blankly, dumbfounded and still in shock after hearing how terrified and hurt 'Trick had sounded. He shakes his head slightly. "I won't. I won't. You're okay, I got you."

The pair are both so stunned that they don't realise Jade is still in the room until she hauls Pete up by his shirt and pulls him away from his friend to shove him backwards and up against the wall.

Pete's in shock.

Jade's barely taller than him, but she's strong. She looks so innocent, but he knows what she's been doing to his best friend, even if he doesn't know the full extent. "Don't bother, Wentz. He was asking for this. Worthless, you hear me? Worthless. So don't fucking bother with him. Though, you're both worthless, so maybe you're suited. "

Patrick's too out of it and in too much pain to move, but he silently agrees with the first part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted on the anniversary of the day MCR split to uh...Cheer you up?


	10. Don't you dare hurt him.

Pete grunts as his head makes contact with the wall. His vision starts to swim as he tries to focus on Jade's face so close to his. It doesn't help when Jade slaps him across the cheek, the stinging sensation grounding him as his anger builds up.

"Get the fuck off me, you bitch," he growls before he's slapped again, her ring drawing blood. He spits at her in retaliation and takes the second of shock to shove Jade backwards and off of him. Jade fights dirty though and moments later, she throws herself at him, clawing his face with sharp nails.

Any moral objection to hitting a girl goes straight out of the window as he lands a punch on her jaw, relishing in the noise she makes in pain and anger. Pete grabs a hold of her arms to stop her hitting back, but she's too quick and as soon as he makes contact, she brings her knee up and knees him in the crotch. Pete stumbles back and she kicks at his shin until he falls over with a grunt. Before he can get up, she straddles his waist to pin him down.

The punches don't let up.

He has no idea how Patrick has coped for so long. He has no way of stopping Jade, so he just lays still and takes it in the hope of buying Patrick time to recover, his vision starting to blur around the edges from the pain of the relentless hits. Jade never seems to get tired, hurling insults at both him and Patrick the whole time she's beating Pete senseless. He nearly manages to shove her off at one point when he lands a couple of punches to her stomach, but she's back on him in seconds.

Pete's resigned himself to the fact he's going to pass out. He's not going to stop Jade, he's not going to be able to protect Patrick. 

_Come on, Pete. You've fought and won against people twice your size. You practically live in mosh pits, what the fuck's wrong with you. Push her off! Come on. Don't you wanna help 'Trick? He goes through this all the time, and you, you can't even take it once. Pathetic._

Pete psyches himself up enough to try and shove her away once more. He manages a punch to her jaw but Jade just gets angrier and shoves him back down again and his head hits the floor with a sickening crack. He lets out a tiny gasp and whine of pain. He's moments away from passing out when he feels the weight of Jade being lifted off his hips. 

Patrick heard the whine and couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't let Pete be subjected to Jade's anger. He forces himself up off the floor and drags Jade off of Pete kicking and screaming.

To Pete, Patrick's voice sounds like it's underwater. He can hear it shaking and quiet, muffled as his head spins. "You don't do that to Pete. He d-doesn't deserve it. Go. G-Get out. Too far. You do not hurt Pete."

Jade's back to hurling insults again. Pete's never heard the word faggot used so many times in a sentence. He wants desperately to get up and help Patrick throw Jade out, but he can hardly move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know where I'm going with this.


	11. It's really going to be okay.

Pete's never been prouder of Patrick. He's never been prouder of anyone in his life. He just manages to catch sight of Patrick shoving Jade out of the door before his head becomes too heavy to lift from the floor, his vision still swimming. There's a small smile playing on his lips though.

Patrick's in too much pain to get Jade further than the bedroom door, but that will do. He manages to shove his kicking and screaming girlfriend, or well, ex, it seems after what she's said, outside the door, her nails only catching his face once. He practically slams the door and locks it before he drops to his knees by Pete's side, roles reversed.

"I'm sorry. Pete, can you hear me? P-Pete-"

Pete forces himself to sit up, willing his nausea to be contained. He's brimming with pride. He can't believe Patrick just stood up to the girl he's been letting walk all over him and hurt him, just for Pete. His usual toothy grin's back, even though there's blood on his teeth from where they've split open his lip.

Patrick can't help but match his grin, but it's more of a sheepish smile than anything, also unable to believe what's happened. He didn't want to speak out against her for fear of the consequences, let alone forcibly push her outside. He hopes she'll just get bored and go away. He just couldn't let Pete get hurt though. That hurt more than anything she'd put him through mentally.  

They want to hug each other, tell each other it's going to be okay, but Patrick's too nervous, and Pete's still trying to get his vision to stop blurring, so they settle for just smiling at each other as if they don't need words to talk.

Eventually, when Pete's decided there's only one Patrick, and not the three he'd been seeing, he opens his arms and gently pulls the one Patrick into his chest as he babbles "You're amazing. So amazing. My Patrick. So proud. Amazing."

The smaller boy's sheepish smile turns to more of a genuine one, just happy that Pete doesn't seem to want to abandon him like Jade had promised he would. He just melts into Pete's chest, easily ignoring the pain when Pete's holding him, murmuring that he's proud and it's over, Jade won't hurt him anymore.

They eventually hear the front door slam, assuming Jade's bored and given up.

The two boys just sit and hold each other for what seems like hours, mumbled "It's going to be okay now,"s with even quieter "I know,"s  passing between them as they clutch at each other as if they second they let go, they'll disappear. They'll wake up at the beginning with Patrick struggling to cope with being treated like shit, and Pete none the wiser.

But for them, there, in that moment, they're okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the penultimate chapter, so it's kinda short. If anyone has requests by the way, hmu here or on tumblr. I'm Beebro-Fuckboyd


	12. Not fixed, but fixable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't know how to end. Will this do? I can add more later if I want.
> 
> Comments more than welcome... hint hint.

For months after, Pete babies Patrick, making sure he's okay, and he's looking after himself well, since he's found out Patrick's an even worse chef than himself. Patrick does try to explain that Patricia will cook for him, now that she's back, but Pete won't have any of it.

They never tell anyone.

No-one's ever told about what Jade did to Patrick. Pete begs him to tell the cops, or at least the band, but 'Trick outright refuses. He genuinely believes no-one will help him, because he's a guy. That's his only reasoning. _The cops always believe the girl._ He's convinced he'll be blamed, that Jade will bend the truth and pin it on him instead.

He's much happier though. He has more energy during rehearsals, he seems less tired and a lot more willing to make the effort to meet up with the guys when they're not practising. Pete suspects that before though, when he made excuses about not being able to meet up, it was Jade forcing him to stay home with her. He doesn't bring it up though. None of them mention her. Joe and Andy are just told by Pete that she wasn't right, and they're not allowed to talk about her or 'My bass is going right up your ass, I swear to god and all things holy-'

Patrick's not 'fixed' though. He still cringes at raised voices and flinches away every time someone gets too close or moves too quickly. He's not fine yet, but Pete's sworn to protect him the very best he can. Any time Patrick calls him, he drops everything to help his best friend out, pointless or not.  Patrick is getting better though, Pete knows it, and he's sure 'Trick does too. The other band mates notice the difference, Pete more so.

 Pete seems happier too now he has Patrick back closer to his usual self, less afraid to speak out and voice his opinions. Sure, he's not a fan of the feisty argumentative Patrick that comes out when they're discussing lyrics, but it's part of his Patrick, the Patrick he realised he started to lose, so he puts up with it and loves him anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> So I've never written in this tense before and like, what the fuck. I just wanted to see how it sounds. My depression is kicking my ass and I have no motivation to write so I'm spicing it up. I'll try and update this if people like it but it takes me so long to get motivated.  
> Creative criticism is welcomed. Telling me it's shit is also welcomed.


End file.
